Why I Don’t Do Phone Consultations
I’ve been practicing for over twenty years, and it’s always interesting to me when my supervisees want to jump on a 15-minute call with a potential client to “see if they’re a good fit.” (Air quotes, with a sarcastic smirk, if that didn’t come through in the italics.)
I don’t believe that’s good practice for the clinician or the client. Here’s why.
First, people come to therapy with complex concerns.
Even the stuff that sounds simple on the surface usually has layers, current issues tangled up with the past, sometimes even with generational threads. There is no way a client can fully explain, nor can a clinician thoroughly understand, all of that in a few quick sound bites.
When clients try to shrink their stories into bullet points, clinicians miss the quieter truths, the ones that often have the most impact on the clients’ lives. Generally, quiet truths don’t emerge spontaneously. These kinds of truths and their subsequent clarity show up in the midst of real, messy conversations with someone who has the skill and the desire to honestly relate while keeping the client emotionally safe.
Second, people don’t generally come to therapy unless they’re in pain.
Let’s just say it clearly—pain. Therapy can be uncomfortable, even embarrassing (especially the first treatment episode). It costs time, money, and emotional energy. The primary reason someone might choose to sit with a stranger and discuss their most personal, often painful issues is that their current coping mechanisms are no longer effective.
That kind of vulnerability deserves more than a quick phone call. It deserves space. Room to breathe. There should be sufficient space for the client to slow down and genuinely communicate their thoughts and feelings. And the clinician deserves the same space to evaluate, not just what the client is saying, but how they’re saying it, what’s underneath, and what’s not being said. That depth is what makes accurate assessment and effective treatment possible. This kind of intentionality doesn’t happen on the fly.
Third, being nice on the phone doesn’t mean a clinician has what it takes to be a client’s therapist.
Every therapist has their style shaped by who they are. This style shapes how they use their skill, how they listen, how they challenge, and how they reflect uncomfortable truths back to a client who is hesitant to acknowledge them. When a client is sitting across from someone who has permission to ask questions and say things no one else in their life is allowed to say, that’s when the client finds out if that therapist is a fit. That’s when the clinician learns how the client uses defense mechanisms, how much insight they have, and how ready they are to do the “work.” During this time the client learns how the clinician collects and processes information with them. This knowledge can’t be captured in a drive-through conversation. And honestly? It shouldn’t.
Fourth, good therapists are patient, practiced, and disciplined.
The early part of the therapeutic process is messy. The problems that brought the client to therapy haven’t been resolved by reading a good self-help book, applying the wisdom from a compelling TikTok, or having a good friend or family member read the client the “riot act.” Even if the client knows intellectually what the problem is and what the logical steps for a solution are, somehow relief has escaped them. This is because knowing something intellectually is different from accepting it in one’s heart and acting on it.
A therapist may see important things about the client early in the therapeutic process, but what matters is whether they have the patience, practice, and discernment to know when to share what they know. Sometimes, the client requires not immediate insight, but rather a companion who will support them as they grapple with the truth until they are prepared to embrace it. Can the therapist hang with the client while they work it out, without rushing the process? Are they humble enough to admit what they don’t know and curious enough to learn with the client? The answers to these questions won’t be found in a brief conversation where everyone is on their best behavior. And let’s be honest—neither the client nor the clinician will be on their best behavior for the duration of treatment. That’s not how healing happens.
Some final thoughts…
Years ago, when I trained at the Ackerman Institute, Peggy Papp told our class something I never forgot. She said (and I’m paraphrasing),
“If your client likes you all the time, then you’re not doing your job.”
And I’ve come to believe that’s true.
Therapy isn’t about being liked all the time. It’s about being real. It’s about being able to walk with someone through their mess, to hold space for transformation, and to say the hard things when they need to be said. A good therapist knows when to push and when to pause. An invested client shows up and keeps showing up, even when it’s hard.
That’s why I believe it’s worth going through the trouble of sitting down together, not just for one session, but for a few (at TRS-Counseling, we assess new clients over *three sessions). That time allows the client to frame their story. It gives clinicians a chance to collect the full picture. The client and clinician can develop a working relationship in which the client becomes familiar with the clinician’s style and skills, while the clinician assesses the client’s willingness to invest in their healing. Both the client and clinician have considered the complexity of the problem and have collaborated to develop a direction that can empower and restore the client’s peace. That is what a real fit feels and looks like to me.
*At TRS-Counseling, the three-session assessment is a paid part of the therapeutic process. We believe that meaningful healing requires both an emotional and practical investment, because you and your peace are worth it.
